


Haunted by the Ghost of You

by yaknownyan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ((the pain is still there tho)), (but only for a moment because we all know Shiro can do anything but die), Angst, Canon Compliant, Character Death, Confessions, First Kisses, Flashbacks, From past to present, Heavy Angst, Iverson is a dick, M/M, Missing Desert Shack Scene TM, Pilot Error, Pre-Kerberos Mission, what happened while Shiro was gone and when he came back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 08:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13700868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaknownyan/pseuds/yaknownyan
Summary: Pilot Error.They hadn't even found a body.They hadn't even found a body and they're already giving his legacy away, tainting his name, destroying what little was left of him for Keith to hold on to.-He shifted gears. The heavy machinery roared beneath him, as his belongings rattled in the cardboard box rope-tied on the back of his hoverbike, threatening to spill out on the sand that went miles and miles behind him with every minute.He hadn't returned to the shack in years. He was surprised he still knew the way after all this time.





	Haunted by the Ghost of You

_The telenovela played in the background, multiple voices speaking a foreign language being muted out from their minds, filtered through their thoughts._

_"Daddy, where's mommy?"_

_He looked at him from the couch, tired eyes and exhausted complexions illuminated slightly by the soft blue hue coming from the tv screen, cradling a six pack of beer on his lap and nursing a bottle on his right hand. Keith was on the floor, picking on a scab on his right leg from when he had fallen over while playing with a street animal and ignoring the heavy silence after asking his question._

_"She will be back soon." his dad said at last, taking another large gulp from a careless swing that made a few drops spill down his chin. He wiped it off with the back of his hand, "Why'd you ask, kiddo?"_

_He leaned back on his father's leg and grasped the material of his jeans with iron fists, "I miss her."_

_"Yeah..." he leaned over slightly, reaching out to ruffle Keith's mane of black hair before grabbing the TV remote, "Me too, kiddo."_

- 

The sound of sellotape ripping echoed through the air. Keith sat back on Shiro's bed, watching the man stick yet another box closed and add it to the pile. The room was slowly growing emptier, and spaces previously occupied by trophies, medals and books being filled with cardboard boxes.

He had spent many lazy afternoons and study sessions in this same room. He had decorated the way the light shined on the window and creeped through the blinds, the singing of the birds in the early mornings, every glow-in-the-dark star sticker, pinned newspaper articles, constellation maps, and garrison posters... it made him feel uneasy, seeing Shiro pack his things as reality fully settled in. 

Keith was never good at saying goodbyes.

"I'll be back soon, ok? A year will go by so quickly you won't even notice."

He was right - they had been friends for just a little bit over a year, and it had gone by in the blink of an eye. It seemed just like yesterday they were introduced to each other by Iverson, forced to work together in order to teach Keith some discipline, and give Shiro some first-hand teaching experience as a tutor. 

Neither of them had expected them to have the relationship they have now. Keith had been so careful to not become attached, and yet...

He eyed the Garrison Officer jacket draped on the office chair, along with the cap that was carelessly thrown on the study table. Shiro had worked so hard for this... the last thing he wanted was to make him feel guilty for following his dreams, even if it meant leaving all these little details from their old life behind. 

"I know, but..." he looked up just in time to meet Shiro's gaze. He was staring at him, expectantly, while balancing two boxes on his arms. Keith felt his throat going dry, "I'm gonna miss you, ya know?" he managed to croak out.

Shiro looked taken aback, not expecting Keith to be so honest. He carefully placed the boxes on the table before he scratched the back of his head, stuttering a few broken words until he gave up and hesitantly sat down next to him on the bed. Keith avoided eye contact, suddenly taking interest on his hands, fiddling nervously on his lap and shaking slightly. 

Shiro placed one of his on top of them and laced their fingers together, giving a light squeeze. The gesture was warm, and familiar, "I'm going to miss you too, buddy." 

They were quiet. It wasn't anything like their usual quiet moments, where both of them fell into a comfortable silence where words were left unsaid, but they still managed to convey their meaning through the way they breathed, or the way they looked or touched each other; playful shoulder bumps, kicks on the shins and holding hands in the dark.  This was different. It was unsettling, foreign and heavy. Keith felt it weighing on his shoulders, and he wanted nothing more than to change the subject and pretend like this wasn't the beginning of their last week together before Shiro went on the Kerberos mission.

Thankfully, Shiro broke the ice, "Bet you won't miss my constant nagging for you to study on weekends."

Keith punched him in the shoulder, and Shiro laughed before feigning being hurt, " _That_ , I won't and will never miss."

"Hey! I was joking! You should miss that the most!" Shiro pulled his hand away from his, before placing it on his shoulder (another habit of theirs), "Promise me you'll keep revising hard. I expect to see you up there with me in two years, cadet."

Keith finally looked at him, eyes running across his features, memorising the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiles, the dimples on his cheeks and near his lips, the freckle on his nose, his ridiculous hair that got messed up and tousled whenever he wore his officer cap...

"Yeah..." he swallowed, looking into a pair of hopeful grey eyes he recognised better than his own at this point, "I will. I promise."

-

He should've known something was wrong the moment the TV in the cafeteria switched channels,  _Breaking News_  flashing on the screen in big, bold red letters. He chose the worst possible moment to turn into an optimist, and allowed himself to hope that whatever was to come up on the news channel wouldn't affect him in any way. And it probably wouldn't; he always expected the worst ever since Shiro had left, and nothing bad had happened until then.

The chattering between students died once the three portraits appeared on the screen, and even if it hadn't, Keith wouldn't have noticed. To him, there was only white noise.

Keith wasn't used to saying goodbyes, but he had always told himself that he was used to people leaving his life.

For a fleeting moment, he recalled a summer afternoon, too long ago, which he had buried so deep beneath in his thoughts he thought it beyond rescue. Like a gravedigger at work, burying an early tragedy with soil until it's memories were muffled by the earth, and away from those that were too reluctant to move on, desperately grasping to whatever was left in order to ignore reality. But now he was digging into the ground with his bare hands, shovel long gone, not scared of what he was going to find underneath. Suddenly, there was a kiss on his forehead, another on the tip of his nose, and a broken apology he wasn't quite sure if he had heard it right. And just like that, she was gone, front door left ajar with the morning light barely creeping into the living room from the gap. When his father left him (a heart attack, they said), he didn't forget to close it behind him.

Those feelings were little by little replaced with warmth. It took years to repair what was left broken, but he had managed. Now, there was a hand on his shoulder, the smell of male cologne and quiet words of encouragement. After a while, he had finally relearned how to form a smile, and what his laugh sounded like. Apparently, it was beautiful, or so he was told. He had decorated the way the light shined on the window and creeped through the blinds, the singing of the birds in the early mornings, every glow-in-the-dark star sticker, pinned newspaper articles, constellation maps, and garrison posters.

Another door was closed with a bang, and he was left all alone once again

- 

Keith got pulled out of class on Thursday, being told that Iverson required his presence in his office immediately.  The paper note he got from the professor, along with the member of staff standing in the hallway waiting to escort him, being the only warnings for what was about to come.

This was the first time any of them had tried to reach out to him ever since the announcement of Shiro's death. Apart from an invite small funerary service in honour of the three crew members for friends, family and fellow work colleagues (to which he did not attend), Iverson had been avoiding him like the black death all week. 

He walked silently across the corridors with Professor Montgomery, ignoring his worried glances. 

He hadn't bothered to knock before he came in, which earned him a reprimanding scowl. Iverson, who was more used to his rebelliousness, simply looked up from the folder he was reading before calmly placing it on top the pile of documents on his desk. 

"Kogane." he grumbled, greeting him and gesturing to the seat in front of him for Keith to sit. Once he did, he nodded at Professor Montgomery, who nodded back in understanding before leaving the room and closing the door to the office.

Keith had expected at least a few minutes of awkward silence, to which he could frown and cross his arms as he pleased, but Iverson was having none of it. He grabbed a piece of paper from the printer behind him, and slid it across the table. 

_Job Application Form - Galaxy Garrison_

 

"What the hell is this?" Keith scowled.

"Read it."

So he did.

_Mr. K. Kogane_

_The Galaxy Garrison facility is pleased to announce that you have been offered a place as Superior Military Officer, ready to be confirmed officially by the end of the school year._

_This decision was made and approved by Commander M. Iverson, after taking into consideration your growth and success both academically and personally._

_We hope to hear an answer by the end of the month. If interested, please fill the form on the back of the letter._

_We wish you the very best in your future._

"What the hell is this?" Keith repeated, finally grabbing the paper a little too roughly, not caring if it crinkled around the edges, "Superior Military Officer? Why the hell would you offer me this? I haven't even graduated yet. I just turned 18 last month."

Iverson leaned back on his chair, "As you must know, a spot previously occupied by a late superior officer has recently become available. The former has told us a lot of positive things about your growth under his tutoring, and we have decided to...  _ignore_ your rebellious past in order to give you a place in the staff."

"Late su-  _Shiro?"_ Keith asked in disbelief, offering the letter back to him while shaking his head, a dry chuckle leaving his mouth, "You have to be kidding me."

Iverson didn't accept it, sitting up straight. This close up, Keith could almost outline the vein popping on his temple, "You have to take into consideration, Mr. Kogane," he said, mustering whatever little patience he had left, "That this is a one-time offer, and many would kill to receive a position like this at your age."

"And what, you're just replacing Shiro?!" he scoffed, rearranging himself on the chair, leaning forwards in defiance, "Mourning him for a week or two and hiring the next guy to be the new face of the Galaxy Garrison?! Your  _Golden Boy?!"_

Keith was crossing a line by raising his voice, and he knew it. But he couldn't hold back. It had only been a week, and it was like he was the only not willing to let go yet, still processing all of this.He felt like the world was moving too fast, and he couldn't keep up. 

And then he said it.

"I hardly call Shirogane's performance as the pilot of the Kerberos' mission  _Golden Boy_  worthy." 

Keith snapped. 

He couldn't remember what happened next. After he threw the chair back, pushing all contents from the desk to the floor with the swipe of an arm, there was only blind rage, violent swinging of fists and the colour red. He could vaguely recall shouting before being held back into a wall,  and carried away from the room by two officers, hardly enough people to contain him and his outburst as he nearly escaped from their grasps to finish what he started. 

Pilot Error.

They hadn't even found a body.

They hadn't even found a body and they're already giving his legacy away, tainting his name, destroying what little was left of him for Keith to hold on to. 

-

He shifted gears. The heavy machinery roared beneath him, as his belongings rattled in the cardboard box rope-tied on the back of his hoverbike, threatening to spill out on the sand that went miles and miles behind him with every minute.

He hadn't returned to the shack in years. He was surprised he still knew the way after all this time. 

The last time he visited his childhood home was with Shiro. It used to be a quiet spot, his safe haven for when he felt like everything around him was too much. It reminded him of his roots, and how much he'd changed, and somehow the thought was comforting. 

He remembered the way Shiro looked at him once he realised how much it meant to him. How the empty and dusty wooden house, that creaked once broken into and bore only three rooms at most, was once everything he had ever known. How he was so emotionally attached to it that he couldn't help but return to it when he felt lost and alone. 

Shiro had never looked so vulnerable. Almost like he felt he had to open himself up completely to Keith in order to return the favour. They had shared one of their first hugs that night, hands clasping against one another before pulling each other into a tight embrace. 

 _"Yanno,"_ he said, pulling away slightly to look down at Keith,  _"A few tweaks and it isn't that bad of a place to live in again."_

Keith biked the bike next to the porch mid curve. He ignored the creak of the steps beneath him and kicked the door open, practically throwing the cardboard box in the middle of the dark living room. It hit a few construction bricks and beer bottles, last disturbed when Keith had been there with Shiro. 

He had broken down there and then. He wished he could scream out in the middle of the desert, scream and cry out until his lungs collapsed, but he would not give the cosmos the pleasure of seeing him torn apart. 

- 

"When do you think he'll wake up? It's been hours."

"The man just plummeted back to Earth from space. Give him a break."

"Can you guys shut up? I think Leith, or whatever his name is, is gonna kick us out if we don't stay quiet."

"It's  _Keith_ , and I can hear you." Keith grumbled, looking up at the trio from the makeshift stool he had assembled next to the sofa. 

The smaller one, Pidge he thinks, raised his eyebrows emphatically, as if he had just proved his point.  He turned back to the man laying in front of him, eyebrows furrowed in a knot even while he was unconscious. Keith was holding his open hand (the left one) in a tight grip, rubbing circles on the back of it with his thumb and restraining from kissing each bruised knuckle, like that would miraculously heal his wounds somehow.

Keith did not know if sleep deprivement had gotten the best of him, or if this entire situation was straight up surreal. Probably the latter. Definitely the latter.

He had changed. 

His memories of Shiro might be blurry, long gone beyond idealisation for all of them to be true, but he did remember that Shiro did not have pale skin, littered with scars and fresh battle wounds. He did not have white hair, blending with the black from his undercut.  And his right hand was warm and human, not unknown heavy gunnery, threatening to burst into life at any give moment. 

But he didn't care, as long as he was back where he belonged, safe on his arms.

"Please, wake up." he whispered.

And he did. And his eyes were still the same, even after all this time. They were still grey, and full of life. Even after all he went through, Shiro was still Shiro, and that was enough for Keith to feel like he was breathing again. 

He was disoriented, mumbling a few broken words before looking around the room with squinted eyes, adjusting himself to the bright light coming from the window above him. Keith had done his best to craft some curtains using stained bed sheets, but the torrid desert sun still managed to find its way in. Trembling, he tried to stand up, but Keith stopped, him, shushing until he admitted defeat and lied back down with a grunt.

"W-where am I?" he croaked out.

"You're safe. You're okay." Keith reassured him, still holding him down to the sofa. 

Shiro recognised his voice, drawn to it like a moth to a flame, and blinked once, twice, "Keith?"

He nodded, "It's me. Shiro, you're home." he said, holding back the tears that threatened to spill out of him.

Shiro, however, had a harder time to do the same. At first, it was only a few droplets that gathered in the corners of his eyes, which he blinked away in a second. But soon they ran down his face like an overflowing waterfall, his shoulders shaking as he let out a broken sob. Keith leaned closer, holding him flush against him so he could bury his face in the crook of his neck, hiccuping against him and hiding his pain from the three others that watched quietly. He cried like a child, and Keith could only tighten his arms around him.

-

Keith missed Earth.

Maybe not as much as the other paladins, who had a family and the promise of a life to get back to. But even though Keith was an orphan, kicked out of the only home he had ever known, he missed what Earth meant for him.

Earth meant safety. It meant having a simulator test in the Garrison as his biggest worry. It meant looking forward to long bike rides way past lights out. It meant feeling the torrid heat of the desert on his skin.

Now, there was only space. Infinite and lonely.

Keith missed Earth. Maybe not as much as the other paladins, but he still did.

That's why, whenever he felt homesick, he liked to visit the bridge to use the star map projection. Altean technology only goes so far (and he hasn't been able to find Earth without manually swiping from his current location until he got to the Solar System), but something about the endless holographic scattering of constellations soothed him.

He always tried to come around after everyone had already gone to bed. Sitting on the steps and looking at the artificial stars alone, even if the idea another presence in the room felt slightly comforting. For some reason, part of him couldn't bring himself to show this side of him to the others.

Even back at the Garrison, Keith was reserved, quiet. Mostly because whenever he did try to be friends with someone, his straightforwardness and strong personality got the best of him. And eventually, he pushed them away.

He always thought that maybe something was wrong with him - something about him that made people wantto leave.

Of course, everything changed when one person decided to stay.

The doors to the bridge slid open, pulling him out of his thoughts. He would have been startled  _if_   he didn't recognise the echoing steps from Shiro's combat boots.

"Figured you would be here." He mused, sitting next to Keith on the steps, "A little bit too late for stargazing, don't you think?"

Keith scoffed, "Then what are you doing here?"

He didn't answer, simply observing at the stars move across the map. The silence shared between them was consolatory, and Keith felt grateful that he didn't feel the need to break it so soon.

Shiro, however, had a different idea.

"The team is...  _worried_  about you." He said, carefully choosing his words. Keith's composure didn't falter at his words, and Shiro took that as a sign to keep going, "You haven't been sleeping properly. Even Allura mentioned being worried about your well being."

"Drop the leader facade, Shiro, I'm fine." Keith said, the answer leaving his lips naturally, yet sounding almost robotic. He couldn't recall how many times he had already said that this week. He was fine; he really was. Shiro and the team had bigger things to worry about than him being homesick.

 _But that isn't all,_ whispered a small voice in the back of his head. He ignored it.

"Keith." Shiro tried again, more sternly this time, and Keith hated it.

"I said I'm fine!"

He hadn't realised he had raised his voice until he snapped his gaze at the black paladin, who glared at him with widened eyes and a furrowed brow; signs of the concern and disappointment that were practically splattered on his face, and noticeable even under the dim blue light coming from the holographic systems above them.

It had been a long time since he had an outburst around Shiro.

Keith turned away, unable to look him in the eye, "I-I'm sorry."

A long pause, and then Shiro hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. Keith's relaxed almost instantly at the familiar gesture - the weight of his calloused fingers holding him down and steadying his temper, the warmth of his palm heating his cold skin like the heat of the desert's sun.

His breath hitched.

Just when had Shiro become his home away from home?

"I'll drop the leader facade,  _if_  you drop the hothead one." Shiro sighed, letting out the one smile he only used around Keith, which still made him weak in the knees even after all this time, "We're way past that, don't you think?"

Keith hummed, "Hm. Don't think so. Guess we'll have to go through another year of tutoring before I can be myself around you again."

Shiro laughed, and Keith felt warm all over. He thought his laugh was beautiful too, even though he never mustered up the courage to tell him that out loud.

"I would gladly go back in time to get to know you all over again." Shiro confessed, mid-chuckle.

Maybe it was what he said, or the way he said it, but Keith somehow managed the convey the hidden meaning behind his words, and let himself lean a little closer, resting his head on Shiro's shoulder. In return, he wrapped his arm around him, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers together before giving a squeeze, "I miss Earth." he admitted, and Shiro stilled against him, "Even though there's nothing for me to miss. There's nothing or no one waiting for me for when I get back." 

"It's the same with me." Shiro pursed his lips, tightening his grip around Keith's hand, "But, you know, we both got each other. So I guess we do have something waiting for us back on Earth, after all."

Keith looked up at him, just in time to meet Shiro's gaze. And suddenly he was taken back to two years ago, in a dormitory filled with cardboard boxes in the Galaxy Garrison. The afternoon light spilled from the creaks between the blinds, and inundated the room with golden. Shiro was Shiro again, and he was cracking a joke as he maneuvered two boxes in his arms, expecting Keith to say something, anything.

"Yeah," Keith shivered, eyes dropping down to Shiro's mouth as he hoisted himself up with his hand, "I guess..."

Shiro met him halfway.

Kissing Shiro was everything Keith expected it to be and more. It was nothing like how people described kisses in romance novels, or in the telenovelas his father used to watch late at night while drinking and indulging him in "I spy" games. There was no fireworks, or a choir of angels singing love songs, and his lips didn't taste like strawberries. In all honesty, Shiro's lips were chapped, and a little bit dry, and Keith almost whimpered when he exhaled through his nose, hands dipping lower to rest on his waist, fingers digging at his skin. They were still in the bridge of the Castle of Lions, but to Keith there was only Shiro, and he slowly forgot his surroundings after closing his eyes, losing himself to the feeling. 

"I missed you." Shiro said, high-pitched and in between kisses, "I missed you so much."

Keith couldn't even begin to describe the effect that had on him. Just like that, he was home.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked it! It is now 04:51 am and holy shit my shoulder h u r t s
> 
> You can find me on twitter under the name yaknownyan


End file.
